vr

a novel

Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

December 1998

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 10 December 1998
Subject: Would you buy a used condom from this man?

It astonishes us that no one would review a film without seeing it, yet it's considered acceptable to write harsh words about a book on bondage without trying it.

Let me try to get this straight, since this is unbiased, well-informed, gender-neutral, objective reporting. The analogy is not what one might reasonably expect: one watches a film before reviewing it, just as one reads a book before reviewing it. No. In the case of film, that might be enough. In the case of a book about bondage, one must not only read the book, but also try bondage. Is this the bclinton school of journalism? negatron, was that you who wrote to Todd calling him a "sex expert"? Don't flatter him. I read Dan Savage every week. He writes for a local paper.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 11 December 1998
Subject: Post-modern love

"Would you like to go out for a drink after work?" "No. I'm too tired. I worked out all day." I was crushed. I'd been waiting in ambush for the cocktail waitress with huge tits since last Thursday. You see, I'm like the guy at Safeway who falls in love with the cashier when she smiles and says: "Will that be cash or charge?" Some days though the world is just, which means I get what I want. A few minutes later she had changed her mind: "I get off in an hour. If you like we can go to the Baltic Lounge." This was not exactly my plan. Her friend is a cocktail waitress there, and they don't serve liquor. "Oh, great. We can drink beer and try to make small talk with your friend listening in." I guess that's what Rohypnol is for. Then I had to whine my way out of work: "You're staying to the bitter end, my friend." "No I'm not. I've got a hot date." "You're meeting an upside-down bottle at McCormick's?" This was a reference to Wednesday when I went there between shifts and in walked one manager after another drinking on the job. We've just had a memo about the evils of alcohol. Anyway I argued and complained. Svetlana, the shop steward, finally gave in: "Don't give me any more of your lamentations." As it worked out I set my room, clocked out and couldn't find River. She had been abandonned setting up the dining room. I spent half an hour off the clock helping her. Then we went to the Baltic Room. It was a weird night. I had a dozen crab cakes. Actually they gave me fifteen. I passed them once and brought back my silver platter with about ten left. I put them under the warmer. When I returned Boris said: "Have a crab cake." I looked. There were two left. I screamed: "I'm serving the fucking crab cakes." The sous-chef started screaming at Ivo, who is known to love crab cakes. Then we all started laughing, and they gave me some more. They wanted eight bucks to get into the Baltic Lounge, so River suggested we go somewhere else. What luck. We went to Charlie's, a real bar. She had a Cape Cod while I had three whisky-and-beers. She is a modern (or post-modern) dancer. I joked about performance art. She has a sense of humor about these things. I mentioned Balenchine, whom she characterized as a "misogynistic pig". I said that I was a misogynistic pig. I put my hand on her thigh. She didn't slap me. I wasn't in particularly good form, no mind-numbing charm, but it wasn't bad. She seemed surprised that I opened doors for her and lit her cigarettes. I guess those college boyz she's used to don't do that shit anymore, as Jeff once said when he went to the bathroom instead of letting Corrine go first. River must be post-modern. She's got a nose ring. She drove me home. I tried to kiss her. She wouldn't let me: "I have a boyfriend." I laughed. I tried again. She still wasn't going for it. I said: "I'm trying to hit on you, lure you back to my place. Shall we just shake hands?" She gave me her hand. I kissed the back of her hand. I went home alone. I didn't get any, but it wasn't bad for a first date.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 11 December 1998
Subject: Re: Post-modern love

I've been trying to decide how to reply to this, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm above it. Good luck, Gabriel.

Nichelle

From: Nichelle
Date: 12 December 1998
Subject: Post-mortem love

"Nichelle, are you busy?" I distinctly saw him eyeing my breasts. "No, not at all." I was titillated. I had been waiting for his approach for minutes, possibly hours. As a single, attractive woman, I have to fend them away with a pointed stick. You see, I'm like the woman in the produce department who the apple display-man falls in love with as he watches her fondle the cucumbers. Life is not easy for me out of the cage. There are men out here who not only read bondage books, but practice bondage. Some of them have practiced it hard enough that they have gotten it right. "Êtes-vous un misogynist?" I asked him nervously, fearing the answer. "Non, naturellement pas!" he replied, a look of horror crossing his face. We smiled at one another as we walked into the lounge and he paid my $8.00 cover charge. We sat down for a drink. "That was nice of you," I told him. "Well, it's a date- only the best for you, my princess." He pulled out a cigarette which I lit with the passionate fire burning in my loins. Fortunately, the other patrons didn't seem to be offended by this. He quietly smoked his cigarette, deep in thought. When he was finished, he gently placed his hand on my thigh. "S'il vous plaît, ne me giflez pas." he said, laughing. I laughed too, and we sat together in the dimly lit lounge, merrily eating our crab cakes. He drove me home, walked me to the door. He didn't ask to come in- a gentleman to the last. Not bad for the first date, and as the French say, "Vous porc-chien américain incestueux, nous ne pouvons pas tenir la voie que vous mettez le lait dans votre café."

Nichelle

From: Columbine
Date: 13 December 1998
Subject: Re: Would you buy a used condom ...?

Gabriel's post about the mouth organ column annoyed me badly for about five minutes. (Not so much what he said - he may well be right - but the way he said it and where he said it. Sent to a group of people who didn't read the original and could care less and probably don't know what he's talking about. There's a message board at mouth organ, and an editorial address, but apparently it's too simple to use the correct channels, channels where the information could be constructively used. Gabriel doesn't want to be constructive.)

I have no idea why a man who has said he never wants to speak to me again, way back in April when I revealed my gender, continues to keep me on his mailing list. I'm not going to ask him to remove me. I think he serves a useful purpose, as a reminder of something I hope never to be. When I find myself becoming too bitter or too misanthropic, I say to myself or to Debby, "I'm turning into Gabriel again," and that's quite enough.

-columbine

From: SAGReiss
Date: 13 December 1998
Subject: Quit your lamentations, bitch

Todd, you whine and complain that your faithful readers don't give you enough feedback, then you berate me because I don't send my comments to the right address. Grow up. Nichelle, your letter is truly beautiful. I apologize that I haven't come up with a worthy response. Please accept this lame substitute for the moment. negatron, wake the fuck up and get back online. There's more to life than the Palm Sisters and making money.

*** Connected ***
Apartment 7
one-bedroom flat
cherlyn (asleep) is here.
@w in #72239
Player Conn Idle G Pop Location M Age *
------------------------- ---- ---- - --- ------------------------ ----- -
Guest (#5704) 60m 36s m 8 Sensual Respites Guest
Yasmina (#103336) 16m 14m f 8 Sensual Respites 3y p
Tiyama_Kimoto (#115207) 31m 19s f 8 Sensual Respites 6m p
Michie (#94456) 5m 5m f 8 Sensual Respites 4y p
Kleene* (#116284) 2m 6s m 8 Sensual Respites 9d p
Jinkees (#110745) 3m 3s f 8 Sensual Respites 21m p
Cycle99 (#112186) 5m 1s m 8 Sensual Respites 18m
Khaki_Guest (#86651) 2m 11s f 8 Sensual Respites Guest
8 connected players displayed.
@dd khaki
------------------ Khaki_Guest (female) in Sensual Respites -------------------
impossibly bitter and unpleasant
----------------------------- 1 player displayed ------------------------------
@go #72239
Sensual Respites
A circular stage stands in the center of the hall, dominating the bottom level of the room. Soft yellow light spills out from a chandelier above the stage, illuminating the play area. Old gallery benches form a semicircle on an incline up from the stage, affording the best view. Sofas are fitted against the circular back wall. Staircases, two on either side of the giant hall, lead up to the mezzanine, where tables are set all around the railing, allowing for uiet chatting and easy stage visibility. The hall is charged with sensuality and sexuality, lingering whispers of lust and passion, the soft caress of perfume and the hazy atmosphere of promiscuity.
This room is an arbitration free zone. Type '@help here' for a definition of arbitration free zones, instructions on how to use the Play Stage and Mezzanine, and on how to @bounce. Failure to read @help does not excuse you from the rules therein.
Add feature #13362, the Netsex Partner Finder Feature Object, today!
========================================================
Exits lead northeast to Members Only, down to Dungeon, southeast to Mens
Room, east to Ladies Lounge, enter to Sensual Hot Tub, northwest to The Den
Of Love, north to The Sex Room, up to Mezzanine, and south to Sensual Scrabble.
========================================================
Mezzanine is here. Play Stage is here. Gallery bench is invitingly empty.
Sofa is invitingly empty.
Female: Yasmina, Tiyama_Kimoto, Michie, Jinkees, and Khaki_Guest. Male:
Guest, Kleene*, Cycle99, and SAGReiss.
You say, "Hello, my name is Gabriel."
Tiyama_Kimoto pokes at Khaki_Guest.
Jiggie has arrived.
Tiyama_Kimoto waves to you.
Tiyama_Kimoto hugs you.
SAGReiss [to Tiyama_Kimoto]: Who the fuck are you?
@dd tiyama
----------------- Tiyama_Kimoto (female) in Sensual Respites ------------------
A girl stands before you, she could not be talller than 5'3. She smiles up at you with enchanting green eyes, a smile on her face. Her blonde hair is done up in a neat plait with a bow at the end. She looks comfortable in well worn jeans and an old shirt.
----------------------------- 1 player displayed ------------------------------
Tiyama_Kimoto softly says, "No idea"
Tiyama_Kimoto softly says, "Someone with guest cooties"
SAGReiss [to Tiyama_Kimoto]: Do you normally hug people you don't know?
Tiyama_Kimoto softly says, "yep"
Jinkees has disconnected.
Tiyama_Kimoto just gave you a long, warm hug. Yes, you, SAGReiss.
Tiyama_Kimoto just hugged the whole room.
Michie stares off into the middle distance.
Jiggie goes northwest.
Michie oohs.
Jinkees has connected.
SAGReiss thinks about beating Tiyama into a bloody pulp, but decides it isn't worth the effort.
Tiyama_Kimoto pokes at you.
SAGReiss [to Tiyama_Kimoto]: Fuck you, you dumb cunt.
Tiyama_Kimoto [to SAGReiss]: oo.. who woke up on the wrong side of their coffin thsi morning?
Tiyama_Kimoto shrugs in a noncommittal sort of way.
Tiyama_Kimoto quickly morphs into Katey.
Kleene* grins at Katey.
Kleene* says, "nevermind"
Kleene* hehs.
Kleene* hee's.
SAGReiss [to Katey]: I woke up fine this morning. It's my first day off in two weeks. Perhaps you need to change the batteries on you Hitachi Magic Wand.
Kleene* reckognizes Katey now.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "atta boy! I like your style."
Katey rolls her eyes at you.
SAGReiss [to Khaki_Guest]: Who you calling "boy"? (I hate these people who hug indiscriminately. I don't even like to shake hands.)
Katey . o O ( Hmm.. let's guess who has an insecurity problem!! )
Kleene* [to SAGReiss]: You know, there are plenty of decaffinated brands out on the market today that taste exactly like the real thing.
SAGReiss [to Kleene*]: Unfortunately I'm allergic to non-alcoholic beverages.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Yeah, I hate all cheerful perky types. ...like most of the children on here. That's whyI've almost stopped logging on. Too depressing. But then, my life is even MORE depressing. How's the translating coming along?"
Katey grins at Kleene*.
Jiggie has arrived.
page khaki Translating?
Katey winks to Kleene*.
Kleene* grins at Katey.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "we've conversed briefly before, and you told me about your work. I was the one who had (has) great difficulty learning languages, and you were advising me. It's been a long time though."
Katey giggles at Kleene*.
page khaki I see. I haven't translated anything for a long time. I wait tables for a living and brood about my fate.
Caudia teleports in.
Kleene* grins at Katey.
Katey acks on a nasty hairball which lands on your foot. Yuck!
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "I know...but you told me a great story about your walls were covered with bits of translated passages from the...was it greek? Sorry, bad memory. But I loved that image. I to brood about my fate. Looks bad at this point."
Katey curls up in Kleene*'s lap.
Katey mewls plaintively.
Jinkees looks you over.
Kleene* smiles.
You sense that Jinkees is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Do you get on other moos?"
Katey [to Kleene*]: Cool!
page khaki Anything's possible I live in a mess of dictionaries, cookbooks, e-mail and unfulfilled plans.
Katey [to Kleene*]: have a new char on CS now?
Kleene* idly strokes Katey's full length.
Katey [to Kleene*]: I am planning to ge t a new oone
Katey purrs adoringly at Kleene*.
Kleene* [to Katey]: ayup... Desmond O'Malley... tattoo guy :)
Kleene* now owns the Happy Dragon.
page jinkees Not usually. I wish I could find one better than this.
@dd jinkees
Katey [to Kleene*]: cool!!
-------------------- Jinkees (female) in Sensual Respites ---------------------
A sweet, fun, hip and awesome party girl. She has blue-green-gray eyes (a rare find) , light brown hair that's shoulder length, that's curled and out of her eyes. In her ears, two sets of earings. She is wearing a hemp necklace that has bead flowers on it. She is alsowearing a gold necklace with a pig charm and a small ring with a pink diamond in it.
----------------------------- 1 player displayed ------------------------------
With a sound of a hundred thousand people saying WHOP, Simarillion arrives.
Simarillion waves.
Simarillion strokes Katey's arms gently.
Simarillion and Katey look each other in the eyes in a way that only they understand.
Katey softly says, "It is soooo so different from when I was there"
Kleene* nods to Katey.
Katey waves to Simarillion.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "heh, sounds familiar. I'm just here now in order to avoid some current writing...deadlines and all. I really hate deadlines. And I'm so tired of academia. The whole concept of academic learning has just fallen apart. It's not the life I imagined back when I began, at all. Now I'm trying to prepare to leave, and to imagine what the hell else I will do."
Simarillion [to Katey]: Uh, sorry.. I think that was different FO.
Kleene* says, "seems to change pretty rapidly..."
Katey [to Kleene*]: And the guests get guns and armour!
Yellow_Guest teleports in.
Simarillion [to Katey]: Are you serious?
Kleene* [to Katey]: Really? *heh* I didn't see that yet...
Katey [to Kleene*]: log on as a guest there
Yellow_Guest relaxes on the sofa.
page khaki I had to give up academic life. I got in far too much trouble. It's generally safer for me to hold an "unskilled labor" job. What do you study?
Magenta_Guest teleports in.
Kleene* says, "I'll be damned."
Katey [to Simarillion]: Is it wrong to give random people hugs?
Simarillion [to Katey]: And then what?
Yellow_Guest chuckles politely.
Jiggie has disconnected.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "English Lit...cultural studies and philosophy, film etc. Nobody wants to learn anything anymore, or really dialogue or anything like that. They just want to find their own little fake territory and then defend it. It's all about business and efficiency. I get in trouble all the time too. I'm forever being given the message that I'm just not wanted here."
Kleene* [to Katey]: Wow... Things they are a-changin'...
Simarillion [to Katey]: No, not at all.. I typed 'stroke katey' and it used
Amanda's affectiion FO... I was hoping it would just do a simple verb instead
Simarillion grins at Katey.
Jinkees says, "Any one have an account on AOL IM?"
You feel intense pain as Katey drives a dagger into your back.
Magenta_Guest goes home.
Katey cackles insanely as she wipes her dagger clean.
Kleene* grins at Katey.
Yellow_Guest says, "bloody hell!"
Yellow_Guest teleports out.
Kleene* [to Katey]: Don't let my spine get in the way of your knife ;)
Khaki_Guest [to Katey]: Hey! Do that to me.
Khaki_Guest drops to the ground in a pool of blood after Katey slashes her throat
page khaki I'm not big on dialogue, except of the text variety. Talk is a waste of time. I'd rather talk to the drunk sitting next to me at the bar. I still do think about literature, but no one seems to care what I think.
Simarillion [to Katey]: Does it contain a move?
Kleene* tee-hee's.
Simarillion grins.
Guest has disconnected.
The housekeeper arrives to cart Guest off to bed.
Katey [to Simarillion]: It did
Katey [to Simarillion]: but I removed it as there is no real point
Katey softly says, "most pepople are immovable"
@go home
Apartment 7
one-bedroom flat
cherlyn (asleep) is here.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm sick of talking to academics too. I'm a serious recluse actually. I don't like being around people much at all."
page khaki So you're in some graduate program making a thousand bucks a month as a TA?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Exactly, and I'm really sick of it. So tired of barely making it from week to week, unable to afford new glasses and other necessities. It's really stupid. But I fear I'm incapable of holding a real job."
page khaki What are you supposed to work on? Have you got a thesis title or something?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Well,yes, I've started the dis, but I'm not very inspired...mental fatigue setting in deep. It's called something like Cult and Counterculture; the Turn of Belief in the Sixties. Doesn't that sound like academic mumbo jumbo?"
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "so how much a month do you make waiting tables?"
page khaki It sounds like total shit. I earn about fifteen hundred a month. I hate people too much to do regular table service. I work in banquets.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Excellent, I hage , er, hate people too. That's why I got fired from every job I ever had before I went back to school. I just don't believe in this stuff anymore. Who cares about writing 300 pages of made-up stuff that no one's ever going to read? Stupid."
page khaki Yeah. I guess one has to do something. I sometimes need to eat. I like to drink. I hate this canned beer that I've been reduced to. If I were human, I'd at least be able to afford whisky.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "YEah, heh, Ihave no idea what would happen if I were human."
page khaki You'd probably get laid.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Oh that! I can't even remember how it works. Lemme see...somebody sticks some kinda thing in some other kinda thing...oooo gross."
page khaki If you can't get laid in graduate school, you're in a sorry state. Do you weigh three hundred pounds?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Anything but. I weigh about 100 lbs. But I am in a sorry state. I got into all kinds of trouble with younger men, and it put me off the whole thing. I'm rather afraid of involvement at the moment. Too messy. I don't anyone else in my head."
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "...or anywhere else."
page khaki Come to Seattle.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Ok. It may take awhile."
page khaki I've got time. I presume you're on the East coast. What's your name, anyway?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Name's Susan. I'm old though, I doubt you'd want to boink me."
page khaki I'm thirty-five. I think that's old for Lambda. Do you at least speak in tongues?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "When I get really irritated, of course. 35 eh? That's pretty acceptable. I'm 45. I've been actually thinking of SEattle as a place to start over. OR else Vancouver. Excuse my bad typing. Fatigue."
page khaki Forty-five? Fuck, that is old. And still a student? Have you got sixty-seven kids and four ex-husbands? I might be able to make an exception to my not-over-twenty-five rule, if you're quite hot.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Very funny. I wouldn't want to force anyone's rules, for cryin out loud. I have no kids (that's my rule), no ex-husbands. I told you, I'm a  recluse. And am I Quite HOT? HMMM...I doubt it. I think Im sorta ok. I get carded a lot. Blond...black stripes...black glasses...thin...cool dresser...constant look of aprehension and confusion and reticence on face. IF you like the under-25s you probably wouldn't like me. I hate those 20-somethings."
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "I haven't been in school all this time...please. I've had an interesting life, not that that's any use to me."
page khaki What are black stripes, when they're not on a tiger?
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Oh yes, they're all over my body. Heh - in my HAIR. Blond and black. It's getting kind of tired though...I'm ready for a change."
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "and what do YOU look like, young man?"
page khaki I don't know about all this weird hair and shit. I lived abroad for most of the eighties.
page khaki http://members.aa.net/~hex/sagreiss/sagreiss.htm
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "WEll, it's not that weird, actually...not the way it sounds. But I do fool around with my appearance...just my way of planting interferance between me and the world, I guess."
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Ah. Once a get a decent machine I'll take a look. I'm still stuck with a little antique computer that really belongs on a charm bracelet. Won't do anything but email."
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "It has no memory. Just like myself."
page khaki OK. I'm sixty-five inches tall, one hundred thirty pounds, seven inches. I have fair hair and green-and-brown eyes. Also black glasses. I guess I'm a poor dresser. I usually wear a tuxedo, since that's what I wear to work.
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Huh, not how I pictured you at all. So, like what. you go nekkid the rest of the time? I don't care what people wear. Only care what I wear...because it's a kind of armor. And, dear sir, I must go now. Even I have to cut the avoidance at some point and go back to work. I'm writing some really stupid essays for money right now. Nice talking to you...I'm sure we'll crash into each other again."
page khaki You can e-mail me at sagreiss@aa.net
You sense that Khaki_Guest is looking for you in Sensual Respites.
She pages, "Hey, that's nice of you. Mine is susan@xyz.edu - catch you later."

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 14 December 1998
Subject: Re: Quit your lamentations, bitch

I'm astounded. Do you always tell them the size of your dick in your description? And don't tell me it's none of my business- you sent the log to 7 people, and to yourself twice. Does that make it 14 inches?

I went to Bremerton last night for a potluck. No, John, this is a different kind of pot. I had just finished a 12.5 hr shift, I was dog tired from replacing lost books and calming all of the parents whose Magic Ears won't be there in time for Christmas. I didn't have time to cook, so I bought one of those shrimp rings with the cocktail sauce. I rode out there with a couple of guys, chatted and ate (I hadn't eaten in about 36 hours, and hadn't slept in about 50.) and consented to go to the erotic spanking demonstration that was going on that evening in downtown Bremerton.  It was interesting- if you've never seen anything like it, I highly recommend it. The spanker was a 50 yr old dirty old man with a respectable amount of grey hair and deadpan humor. The spankee was a very pretty woman who kept her fuck-me heels on because her toes curl up and get cramped otherwise. I went home needing a cold shower, but fell asleep in my clothes as soon as I sat down on the futon.

Nichelle

From: Columbine
Date: 14 December 1998
Subject: Re: Quit your lamentations, bitch

>You whine and complain that your faithful readers don't give you
>enough feedback, then you berate me because I don't send my comments to the
>right address. Grow up.

I suppose the simplest response would be, "No, YOU grow up," but that would be infantile. At any rate, you have as ever focused on the easiest part of the whine to attack - the simplest target for your venom - and ignored the greater issue.

Some time ago you insulted me tremendously and informed me that you didn't want to hear from me again, that I shouldn't post here or attempt to write you. Fine, but then you left me on this list and continue to impugn me in front of a group of people I don't know. I can't have that.

I can't decide whether you have left me on this list so I can hear you insult me, a captive audience for your barbs, or whether you insult me so that the other people on this list can see how clever you are, or both. But having a situation where you say nasty things about me and I'm not permitted to reply is unacceptable. Truth is, I'd rather you didn't say the nasty things. Then I wouldn't have to say anything back.

You were a very interesting person when I met you on the Palace, Gabriel. Cynical, yes, but not what you are today. I'm not sure what happened.

-c

From: Joy
Date: 15 December 1998
Subject: Re: Post-modern love

on the bright side, the cat is doing well..

From: Joy
Date: 15 December 1998
Subject: Re: Would you buy a used condom ...?

cheer up columbine, not everyone knows or even cares about your gender or
whatever. i have no idea. yes, some of us are silent for awhile on here,
but know that Gabe/gabriel/sagreiss is not the only noe running the show.
forgive my babble, my mind is faster than my fingers... or is that slower?
It's that time of year again, that wonderful time of year when I get to
see my name all over the place. Tacky bags, country-esque pillows and
throws, not to mention all of the obnoxious paper. I love most of the
paper though. I'm a sucker for color.
I have a pot holder collection of 8, 6 of which are all uniquely
personalized. Thanks Mom, but i don't cook..
I also have a few other knick-knacks around here, all in the glorious name
of consumerism, some of which defy description. Arts & Crafts thingys. or
something. bells, bows, stupid looking angels, yes these are the clever
things that people like to give me. I don't mind it until I see my name
all over Walmart. Somehow they have incorporated my name into their ad
campaign. Something to make you feel warm and fuzzy as you buy some
pointless object made by the sweat of blood of slave labor in China, so we
can All celebrate capitalism.
I confess, I read a little bit of Noam Chomsky (sp???) the other day, my
brain is still infected... with that... among other things..

i was going to write something witty and brilliant -- you have to believe me-- oh well.

i'm so unstable these days i'm scared of daylight.

Tell me- do you think it's too early to be wrapping up presents?

"tis the season to be JOllY.."

From: Columbine
Date: 16 December 1998
Subject: Joy to The World

You've given me a perspective I didn't have before. I was out shopping tonight and I saw the word "Joy" everywhere and it was a completely different experience from the usual.

I'm not sure I'd care for a holiday where my name was all over the place, no. On the other hand, I don't care much for Christmas anyway, so I'll throw in some dislike on your behalf :)

-c

From: SAGReiss
Date: 20 December 1998
Subject: Blind date

When I saw her writing her e-mail address with her left hand I knew I was doomed. Me and Mr Bill will both plead insanity, and be damned. Fuck it, she blew me. I'm a writer of weird e-mail. It wasn't me. I've got my second wind. I didn't quite do fifty-five hours this week, but close. Today wasn't so bad. Everyone looked hungover, especially the Polish boy. And perhaps me, but I couldn't see myself. I didn't even drink last night, except beer. Now I've got an unyielding lust for pinot grigio and the 1.75-litre bottle of Scoresby I bought yesterday. So I've got a plan. Unfortunately it will blow up in my face. I know this, but I can't stop myself. It doesn't matter anyway. I had already given her my URL. You see, I'm sending a blind copy of this letter to River. Hi, River. I'm not quite ready to risk exposing you/her to their/your wrath. Well, that's not true. I'll gladly forward any e-mail. I just think it's the right thing to do. How can I explain? This is an informal e-mail list (or listserv). It includes my ex-gf, one or two people I've met, and a few strangers I fight with from time to time. Time was I thought I could accomplish something here. And I think I did. There was a sustained period of very funny, very beautiful letters. (Todd, where the fuck did you get the idea that La Philosophie dans le boudoir was a novel? The subtitle is: "dialogues intended [destines] for the education of young ladies". And how did you figure that Les 120 Journees de Sodom were a collection of short stories? That is a novel, as loose, chaotic and unfinished as its structure might seem. Justine is simply a Sadien version of Candide, and Juliette is Pamela rewritten by Sade, who loved Richardson. The only reason he didn't write Juliette in epistolary form is that Laclos had already beaten him to the mark, and Sade hated Laclos. Both Justine and Juliette are excessively plot-driven, as is most fiction of the eighteenth century, be it Tom Jones or Manon Lescaut.) So my ill-fated plan is to send this letter, then immediately forward my account of my date with River, and Nichelle's two answers. I think the first should not be overlooked because it is short and elegant and beautiful in its own way. It was a strange and cruel thing for me to do, to send e-mail to my ex-gf about my silly attempts to woo a new gf. But, alas, what was I to do? I want to write, to cultivate that voice which I've bred. You are my only readers. River, if you're still reading, you may be wondering what's up. I can't honestly say. Let's put it this way: whatever you want is fine with me. I won't be attending the Rainier Club employee party, on general principal, plus the fact that I've got a prior engagement to get drunk that night, whenever it is. They seldom need cocktail waitresses after Christmas. I am a professional, despite all the evidence to the contrary. We can work together like 'bots, if we have to, or I can caress your breasts, which is what I'd really like to do. So long, amigos.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 20 December 1998
Subject: Les Tres Riches Jours

If memory serves, that's the title of a very beautiful book of hours written and illustrated for the Duc de Berry a few hundred years ago. The difference between a theoretical title "Les 120 Jours de Sodom" and the actual title "Les 120 Journees de Sodom" is essentially one of duration. I'd have to go way too far into verb aspect for that to make any sense. Suffise it to say that "The 120 Days of Sodom" is a fine translation. Anything else would be precious. "La Philosophie dans le boudoir" is a philosophical dialogue. There is no narrator, which is usual in the novel. One cannot compare the 120 Days with the Decameron, or the Heptameron, which Sade might have been more likely to have read. Those tales, like the Canterbury Tales, consist of a group of characters who tell stories about their experiences. The 120 Days is different. The structure, the nobles who unite the victims and the narrators, is far stronger than in those medieval collections. You might make the claim that narrative structure in general had simply tightened up in the interim. The work was of course published posthume. Nevertheless, emphasis is given to the telling, rather than the tale, and the narration of concurrent events is quite frequent, if not preponderant. I can't think of any advantage of calling the text a collection of short stories, whereas I can see many advantages of calling it a novel. One can deal with Boccacio as a teller of tales. I don't think that the 120 Days can usefully be understood in the same way. Sade and Voltaire are connected through Mr Sade pere. He and his brothers cavorted with the young Volatire in search of pussy and other fine entertainments. There are letters from Voltaire to Sade's uncle, who was variously implicated in some of his nephew's mishaps. I don't quite see how you associate Voltaire's bitterness with Sade. Voltaire had a very successful life, with long bouts of hypocondria and political oppression. Sade spent fifteen of his most active adult years in prison. Sade was bitter about his food, his dildos, his laundry, his property. Those seem like reasonable concerns for someone incarcerated. I'm not at all sure that he wrote to shock. The 120 Days, which he knew would never see the light of day in his time, was not written to shock, I think. Justine and Juliette, yes, perhaps, though I think not. I don't think shock was the Marquis' game. I think he was just playing with his mind, seeing how far it could go. His mind went very far. How else would you explain the thousands of notes he took about his daily masturbation, with prestige (dildo) and other implements whose identity scholars dispute? Sade was a man with a mind that could not be conquered. Every attempt to co-opt him is absurd. He was not a revolutionary, he was not sex-positive. He was a man who was fearless in exploring the depths of his own mind. His victims were always well paid. I can't account for your tastes in porn, Todd. I first read Sade in English when I was fifteen years old. I have loved his works ever since.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Columbine
Date: 21 December 1998
Subject: De Sade

>(Todd, where the fuck did you get the idea that La Philosophie dans le boudoir was a
>novel? The subtitle is: "dialogues intended [destines] for the education of young ladies".

I was going to ask you about that, actually, but given the recent mood it didn't seem like a constructive thing to do.

I haven't read Philosophy in the Boudoir. You'll note that it wasn't one of the recommendations - one paragraph about how it's the only De Sade that Blowfish and GV carry, which was supposed to be dismissive. Both of those sites call it a "novel," so I'm guilty of passing along their ignorance.

But in the case of 120 Days of Sodom (Journees? Really? I've never seen the title in French - so why does everyone translate it "Days"?) I HAVE read it - piqued by your long-ago comments, incidentally - and I believe that I would prefer to classify it as a series of unconnected stories. Calling it a novel is like calling the Decameron a novel.

I'm happy to hear your opinion on Justine and Candide. I wanted to make some De Sade/Voltaire comparisons in the column - two bitter men who wrote only to see who they could shock - but it would have seemed pretentious in that context. It wasn't a literary study, after all, it was a set of book recommendations.

No one who read that column will seriously go out and pick up De Sade anyway. The prose is too much work. I'd like to see more people reading Justine, but I have to be honest - if I picked that book up cold, tried to start it without knowing what rewards would eventually come for my perseverance, I wouldn't get more than ten pages in. Like our readers, I have been trained to expect short, blunt words from my dirty books. I'm not saying that's a good thing.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 21 December 1998
Subject: Mr Antichrist and Miss Amazon

Good morning, River. I'm sorry about that little outburst last night. I was just so happy to be able to communicate with you in some other way than furtive glances in the hallowed halls (I've actually heard members use that expression.) of the Rainier Club, or two minute conversations in the employee break room or cigarette lounge, actually the bottom of a stairwell in the basement. Smoking is very important in a union house, and I've got a hundred-dollar bill from H.E.R.E. (AFL-CIO) local 8. That you should write your e-mail address with your left hand (It only now occurs to me that you are not necessarily left-handed, but may write with your left hand because of that childhood accident.) instead of a telephone number was too much good luck for me to have earned. This is how I communicate with the world. I hate the fucking phone. But I find it very hard to interpret smiles and gestures while I'm working. I think there's a contest on the MOO to guess how long it will take before I get hit with a sexual harassment suit. I don't give a fuck. I'll just wait until you write: "Quit sending me that fucking e-mail." I've got no shame. Well, a little actually. I do feel like a kid trying to get a date to the prom. Only difference is the civilizing effects of alcohol, massive doses of which are not deemed impolite or unseemly among trained food-service professionals, which we are, of course. I didn't invent the mating ritual. I think maybe Todd did. Todd is our Dan Savage, except that he's much taller. I remember one night the waitstaff of the Tennis Club went to C.C. Attles, a kind of hard-core gay bar. There were all these huge men in leather pants. We sat at the bar, a dozen waiters and waitresses in tuxedoes. Getting laid there is about as hard as getting drunk and doesn't cost as much. I finally ate something yesterday, a plate of spaghetti aglio e olio with fifty-seven herbs and spices. I haven't been hungry for weeks. My pants look like Jeff's, falling off of my hips. Cooking and eating is no fun when I'm alone. And I'm sure not going to hang out at the Baltic Room trying to meet women. I guess that's what the Polish boy does, or rather not, since I think he's shacked up. I don't know why he goes there. Maybe it's a nice place. I don't go to bars anymore now that the Gay Nineties has closed.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 22 December 1998
Subject: Lox and chains

Ace at the union told me to talk to Gina on Monday when she returns from holiday: "You won't have no problems." He sounds like a man who fixes problems. A former president of local 8 had a problem understanding the difference between meum and teum. The pension funds seemed to find their way into his private bank accounts. He was found in a bathtub with a hunk of parmesan cheese on his head and his cock in his mouth, or so the story goes. Last night I was the only banquet server working. I soon learned why. I've seen some cheap-ass shit, but I've never even heard of a party bringing in its own appetizers. Yet this prick asked me for a plate for his shrink-wrapped smoked salmon. Then he asked for crackers. I charged him ten dollars for a plate of crackers. He told me that his best friend was a charter member of the Wine Committee, then ordered the cheapest red and white on our menu. I skillfully overpoured, so he had to buy a third bottle. My sister writes that she has looked at my web site and was "perplexed", and that she finds surfing "unsympathetic and inefficient", which is probably true. No one ever seems to be able to find the kind of porn he's looking for, though I'm sure every kind must be out there somewhere. No one seems happy with the available chat options. Perhaps this is just human nature, like complaining about the weather. Television has been around for fifty years and no one likes it, though people watch it several hours a day. There was a glowing article in Salon about a new search engine, which seems to sort sites by the number of other sites linking up to them. I cannot imagine why that would be an interesting or desirable feature, but I am the Antigeek and probably don't understand these things. At least we've still got politics to entertain us. I hope Larry Flynt writes stories on every member of the House and Senate who's ever pissed in a public toilet. They should start taking sperm samples of elected officials to keep track of their comings and goings. Apparently they do urine tests for drugs at the Sheraton and the Four Seasons.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 23 December 1998
Subject: Chateau Moules-pas-Fraiches

"If we didn't pool the tips, there would be blood on the dining room floor." I had clocked back in at half past four with only half an hour between shifts to go to McCormick's for a couple of Dewar's. When I saw a big order of crab cakes and prawn cocktails coming up in the window, I joked to Ivo: "Your order's up." But it wasn't his. I looked at the dupe. It was the bar manager's. A lot of people have a problem with him, but I never have. I think it's because he respects a man who can pronounce those ridiculous names of chateaux, plus the fact that I once picked grapes in Vosgne-Romanee, in the heart of a great Bourgogne region. He's always pouring me glasses of wine: "How do you pronounce this?" I scowl and swirl to show I'm in my best oenological form, taste, then tell him how to say it. We are professionals, remember. Drink first, then talk. However I had heard from the other waiters that he takes tables in the bar, and closes the ticket, so we don't get any tips. That's stealing, or close enough. This was a big order. I grabbed four plates of crab cakes and ran towards the bar. I served. I ran back to the kitchen for six plates of prawns. I fawned. I took drink orders. I even made a Manhattan when I couldn't find the bartender: "I made this one myself, so if it isn't good, it's his fault." I cleared. I talked to the dining room manager. He told me to plus the table over, basically steal it back, so I could get the tip. But the bar manager was fair. He told me: "You just got a table," and plussed it over to me himself. Twenty dollars for the trained food-service professional. Then I had to deal with this six-foot cow who waits tables in the dining room. I had a plan. "I'll take the seven-top at six thirty, and you take the seven at seven, OK?" I turned my back to deal with a cheap drunk in the bar, and the bitch had taken my drink orders. I was furious. I sped over to the table and took control. I snarled at her in the kitchen. As I typed in my order, she says that she's already opened a ticket. No wonder no one wants to work with her. That and the fact that she never stops talking. Anyway, we did fine, forty dollars each on a slow night, thanks in part to my heroics in the bar. Tonight I think I get to work alone.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 23 December 1998
Subject: Crabs

What's up with all these crab cakes? Don't "you people" eat anything else? I put the words "you people" in quotes because it is now all I hear on the telephone at work. No, your book is not going to be there by Christmas. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe this three dollar refund will make you hapy.

Please note the change to this address. Unfortunately, somebody from Amazon spotted my website, so I decided to trash the whole thing and start over on a new server. Gabriel, I still need your password. When are you around? I have tried, but maybe I never knew what it was. After all, I kept the password they assigned to hex.

Gabriel, is your girlfriend receiving these letters or what? I think it might be polite to let us know one way or the other, considering. I was tempted to get upset about it, but then I realized that it doesn't really matter. I'm glad you've got something to write about. I do too, but I couldn't find a polite way to write a letter saying that I had a dozen orgasms last night. He kept going until I asked him to stop, then he kept going until I begged him to stop, then he kept going until I actually meant it. I was dazed and lightheaded. I hadn't eaten anything all day. This morning, I got up and fixed myself a nice big breakfast- an egg (which I fussed with, but didn't finish), bacon, hashbrowns (they were excellent, thank goodness for my $2.95 teflon pan) and toast, with coffee and juce.  I need a shower.

Nichelle

From: Nichelle
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: getting it up

My website is reasonably functional now...

tell me if you see anything weird.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: One day to go

The dough is rising. Charles Ives Symphony No. 2 is playing on my 'puter. I am holed up for the holidays. I've got a toolbox. That jug o' whisky isn't quite empty yet. I've got two colorful bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau. Cheap-ass Svet gave me a tenth of Johnny Walker Red for Christmas. (A tenth? Not even Black Label?) My bonus check may arrive today, not that I really need it with all the massive OT I've been doing this month. I had thought about picking up a couple of books by the late William Gaddis, whom I've never read, but the library was closed. I'll have five days off after Christmas, work New Year's Eve, then three days off, then I'll file for seasonal unemployment (up to $317 a week). I don't think I'll need it, but I don't trust Svet, not in that den of Bolshevik nepotism masquerading as a union house. I much prefer the brothers of the Slavic connection to the white trash snakes and toads and capitalist whoremongers, labor and management alike, but I think it prudent to protect myself in case she's lying to me to serve her own foul designs. So I've got nothing to read, nor eat, except for the bread I'm making, but I'll eat on Saturday, if not sooner. I've just opened my last can of beer. I hate beer. I'm giving it up. I don't know why I've ever drunk the shit. I guess it's healthy, just bread rotting and decomposed in water, or at least that's what it was when Beowulf roamed the mead halls and kicked ass. I wonder what kind of drugs the Celts took when they dyed their skin blue to meet Caesar's legions on the banks of the Thames. Those pernicious motherfuckers. The blue nakedness was just a gimmick. The trick was putting spikes under the water in the riverbed. The Roman armies marched proud and strong right into them. It was a lot worse than fighting the Gauls, who sold their women in exchange for limited self-determination, which is what they've done ever since. I've really got to stop brooding about these things. Please note the changes of address and URL in the header and footer. I've heard some lamentations. I did forward three of your letters to River, whose address I'm still keeping private for reasons best known only to me. She can reveal it to you if she likes. The three letters I forwarded were "Re: Post-modern love", "Post-mortem love" and "De Sade". What I do with letters I've written is, I assume, my own business. I apologize for any misunderstandings and will not forward any other letters without the express written consent of the author. I hope this is a satisfactory arrangement. Last night I sold six hundred dollars in food. The kitchen loves me. They wonder why I won't work in the dining room. Perhaps it's because I can't make any money? Put me on the floor alone every night, tip me on the wine and liquor, make the manager and the busboy stay 'till nine, and maybe we can make a deal. I forgot to reset table thirty-one. I called the telephone operator when I got home. "Can you write a note for the morning crew? Just say: 'King Carl: As I took the votive candles off table thirty-one, my hair caught on fire. I had to run across the street to McCormick's to douse the flames. I forgot to reset. Sorry. Gabriel.' He'll understand."

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: If they don't fall down...

Charles Ives? What the hell? I've got the Nutcracker blasting.. "Take three silver flutes and quick! throw them in the air! If they don't come down, I wouldn't really care..." Yes, Murder, I miss you a lot. Well Gabriel, beer or whisky or whatever the hell you are drinking, you're writing some badass letters.

"...not in that den of Bolshevik nepotism masquerading as a union house. I much prefer the brothers of the Slavic connection to the white trash snakes and toads and capitalist whoremongers, labor and management alike..."

Yeah, pretty good. I've got someone coming over to geek out my computer tomorrow. "I'll feed you." "How about a blowjob instead?" Even geeks know what's good in life.

Gaby, if you want something to read, how about Fante? I'm starting to think he kicks some serious ass. I'm sorry for the lamentations. I was feeling a little stressed out about the possibility of Jeff Bezos reading my cybersex.

Enough for now. I'm going to try to make hot buttered rum batter. Later...

From: SAGReiss
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: I'm an honest man

*** Connected ***
Apartment 7
one-bedroom flat
cherlyn (asleep) is here.
Infrared_Guest teleports in.
Infrared_Guest eats all your food.
Infrared_Guest teleports out.
Nichelle pages, "Did you see the stuff I put up on psni?"
page nichelle No, what's the URL?
Nichelle pages, "http://psni.com/hex/index.htm"
page nichelle I thought that was your old page. Where is the new stuff?
Nichelle pages, "well, it's just in a new place.. the new stuff will go on that first page. The main difference is that vr is a link from hex."
page nichelle I thought that had always been the case.
Nichelle pages, "Oops, well.. I'll let you know when I put up some new stuff then"
page nichelle OK.
page nichelle Incoming.
Nichelle is not currently logged in.
@go living
The Living Room
It is very bright, open, and airy here, with large plate-glass windows looking southward over the pool to the gardens beyond. On the north wall, there is a rough stonework fireplace. The east and west walls are almost completely covered with large, well-stocked bookcases. An exit in the northwest corner leads to the kitchen and, in a more northerly direction, to the entrance hall. The door into the coat closet is at the north end of the east wall, and at the south end is a sliding glass door leading out onto a wooden deck.  There are two sets of couches, one clustered around the fireplace and one with a view out the windows.
You see Welcome Poster, a fireplace, Cockatoo, the living room couch, The Birthday Machine, lag meter, a map of LambdaHouse, Helpful Person Finder, bag of $things, Fuck Off Button, and babe here.
Merry_little_Loner (out on his feet), aldon, Milk (distracted), Shaix, bonn, and Kiki (daydreaming) are here.
bonn [to Shaix]: Strange bedfellows.
Shaix says to bonn, "Indeed."
Shaix waves to you.
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: Fuck you, you fat bitch.
bonn says, "I have invested in an atlas so as to better delineate my future territories."
Milk says, "OK I gota go y'all"
Milk [to bonn]: have a very merry christmas
Shaix says to you, "Hello, asswipe. How's that misogyny thing coming along?"
Milk says, "be safe everyone, please no drinking and r driin driving"
bonn [to Milk]: You too. See you in January.
Milk says, "and to all a good night . . . . . "
Veronique pages, "hiya"
Milk has disconnected.
Shaix waves at Milk.
Shaix sighs.
bonn says, "Drinking and MOOing instead, no doubt."
page veronique What's up, sis?
Shaix grins at bonn.
Shaix says to bonn, "I've done that. Gets me into trouble."
bonn [to Shaix]: I would tend to agree.
Veronique pages, "nothing. how you?"
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: What misogyny thing is that? I have already expressed my thoughts on misogyny: it is but a refinement of misanthropy.
Shaix says to bonn, "One winds up doing things one wouldn't otherwise do with unsavory typists."
bonn [to Shaix]: Indeed.
page veronique I'm hot on the trail of a foxy waitress, as you have probably figured out for yourself.
Shaix says to you, "You can go ahead and hate me for no reason, SAGReiss. I honestly don't care."
Kiki says, "Damn, once you get that boy talking he just doesn't stop."
Veronique pages, "any success?"
Shaix says to Kiki, "Who?"
Kiki [to Shaix]: Milk
Shaix grins at Kiki.
bonn says, "I suppose it couldn't take more than an hour to walk if the airport shuttle isn't running."
page veronique She's away for two weeks. I doubt she'll check her e-mail until she gets back. Then, anything could happen.
Veronique pages, "excellent"
Kiki [to bonn]: Don't walk RUN. Buy U.S. Savings Bonds.
Shaix says to bonn, "Oh, give me a break. I'm *sure* it'll be running on one of the busiest travelling days of the year."
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: Need I have a reason to hate you? (I've got plenty in reserve, if I should.)
bonn [to Shaix]: It'll be running on the Sunday schedule, same as the train, most likely.
page veronique So how did it go in Deutschland?
bonn [to Shaix]: I don't think the 25th is a busy travel day. I'm expecting a quiet airport and half-empty plane.
Veronique pages, "UK :)"
Veronique pages, "i ddnt sleep w/ anyone"
bonn [to Shaix]: It's the week prior that's horrible.
Shaix says to bonn, "Uh, bullshit. I've done travelling on the 25th way too many fucking times, and it's going to be a madhouse."
page veronique Why not?
bonn says, "Weird. I've never had much problem."
Veronique pages, "he is coming here in 3 weeks -= ill screw him then."
Shaix says to you, "It doesn't matter to me what you think."
bonn says, "My neighbors flew to Germany last Christmas and said the plane was only a third full."
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: So quit your fucking yapping, bitch.
The housekeeper arrives to cart Milk off to bed.
Shaix says to you, "Whatever."
Shaix says to bonn, "Hmm. Maybe the international flights won't be bad, but as I recall, it still sucks in the airport in general."
Shaix hopes she's wrong on that count, for bonn's sake.
bonn [to Shaix]: Well, LAX always sucks.
Veronique pages, "he's still married, technically, separated for 2 years and will be divorcd in March - has wife's name tatooed on arm. i sure do know how to pick them."
Shaix grins at bonn.
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: I don't aggress you for no reason. You always start it. Keep your fucking mouth shut next time.
Khaki_Guest comes out of the closet (so to speak...).
Shaix says to bonn, "I've been to LAX once. Last year. I transferred to another airline, but it was at the end of the same concourse, so I saw, like, 1/30th of LAX. :)"
Khaki_Guest sprawls out on the couch.
page veronique Yeah, that sounds like an interesting situation, for someone who really needs excitement.
Veronique pages, "well"
Khaki_Guest searches the couch and pulls out tape dispenser.
Veronique pages, "he is infatuated w/ me so he'll service me well"
Shaix says to you, "I will greet whomever comes into the living room. If you don't like it, consider the @gag feature available to you. I don't give a shit. I refuse to be hostile to you, however. I think it's childish."
bonn [to Shaix]: Inside isn't so bad. It's the traffic getting into it. And since the MTA caved into the parking lot lobby, the train doesn't quite go to the airport. You still have to catch a bus, and sit in traffic.
Shaix says to bonn, "I see."
Khaki_Guest removes a piece of Scotch Tape(tm) from tape dispenser.
page veronique I s'pose my ex-future gf has told me that she has a bf. Ihave no idea what that means. I don't think you go to a bar and let somepunk caress your thigh, if you're serious about your bf.
Shaix says to bonn, "Isn't there a new airport in LA? Ontario?"
bonn [to Shaix]: Um, Ontario isn't in LA.
Veronique pages, "that's true."
Shaix says to bonn, "Where is it?"
bonn [to Shaix]: It's 40-some miles east.
bonn [to Shaix]: I don't think it's international, anyway.
Shaix says to bonn, "Ah."
Kiki says, "Ontario is anything but new."
Shaix says to bonn, "I wasn't thinking it would be a reasonable alternative, I was just wondering."
Khaki_Guest says, "Merry Christmas everyone!"
Shaix grins at Kiki.
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: Where did you learn to say: "I will greet whomever comes into the living room"? They didn't have English class where you grew up?
bonn says, "LAX and Burbank are the only realistic choices, and Burbank only flies domestic flights, I believe."
Shaix says to Kiki, "Hmm. Overheard someone talking about it like it was new. Odd."
bonn says, "And in any case, LAX is usually cheapest."
bonn says, "There's talk of two new airports, but they're pretty far-flung."
Khaki_Guest picks up Fuck Off Button.
bonn says, "Two international airports, that is."
page veronique It all depends on whether she thinks my e-mail and web site are too weird. I think she must be available.
Khaki_Guest wears its Fuck Off Button.
Kiki [to SAGReiss]: Hmm. Maybe it's just my :tell filter, but everything you say seems to come out as, "Somebody please suck my dick! I'm so desperate!"
Veronique pages, "aha gotcha - what does she look like?"
Khaki_Guest attempts to walk through the plate-glass windows! Fortunately, they're tougher than that.
Sophist dashes in, knocks you down, and rubs her ass all over your face. Oh, look... She likes you!
aldon [to Kiki]: Sophist has connected...maybe we will get some interesting discussion yet...
Sophist [to aldon]: NOT
Kiki [to Sophist]: I knew you'd be back.
Shaix says to you, "Hate me for my grammar. Hate me for my breasts. Hate me for my existence in your presense. Go ahead. I revel in it. I am titillated by your contempt for me."
Sophist runs out with her tail between her legs. No, she isn't embarrassed... it just FEELS good.
Shaix says to you, "In other words, get over yourself."
page veronique She is very hot.
aldon rubs his face...Where did Sophist go?
Khaki_Guest searches the couch and pulls out myguide.
bonn says, "If I hated people for their grammar I'd have all but about five MOOers @gagged."
Veronique pages, "describe her "
Shaix waves to Khaki_Guest.
Khaki_Guest searches the couch, but finds nothing.
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: I was just performing a public service, since no one seems to have been able to show you the difference between a subject and an object.
Khaki_Guest says, "Hi!"
aldon teleports out.
Khaki_Guest says, "Was it something I said?"
page veronique The first thing one might notice is her very large, round breasts.
Veronique pages, "how tall?"
Shaix says to you, "I believe what I wrote was grammatically correct. If you choose, we could look it up and discuss it at length and bore everyone out of the living room. Or, you could just sit there and be quiet like you always do. It's up to you."
page veronique I'd say five foot four.
Veronique pages, "weight?"
bonn says, "On occasions like this it is best to appeal to higher authority. Fowler's 'The King's English'."
Shaix smiles at bonn.
Kiki [to Shaix]: It's up to me too, and I forbid the boring shit.
Shaix giggles at Kiki.
Khaki_Guest says, "Hey, I'm English, maybe I can settle this...."
bonn says, "Vida_Blue pointed out a world-wide web site containing an older edition of that worthy volume."
SAGReiss [to Shaix]: I don't need to discuss it. It's very simple. In the phrase: I greet whoever comes here, the object of the verb "greet" is the whole clause "whoever comes here". The pronoun "who" and NOT whom is the subject of the verb "comes".
bonn says, "I neglected to bookmark it, though."
Shaix says to Kiki, "But it would be SO EASY to prove that I was RIGHT."
Shaix stamps her foot and sticks out her lower lip at Kiki.
Shaix grins at Kiki.
Sophist comes out of the closet (so to speak...).
Khaki_Guest looks you over.
bonn says, "I sidestep the whole issue by greeting no one."
page veronique I'd guess 120.
Shaix says to you, "Actually, I believe you're right. Heh. Now, does that make you feel better?"
Veronique pages, "hair color?"
SAGReiss is always right.
Shaix will never make the error again.
Kiki burps.
Shaix says to you, "I believe you mean annoying."
* You've Got Nim! *
Kiki [to Sophist]: Cheater.
page veronique Brown with lighter streaks, possibly fake.
Shaix says to you, "Gah. I digress. Please do so, as well."
Nim says, "Merry Jesus H. Fucking Christmas."
Sophist kisses Nim platonically.
Nim hugs Sophist warmly.
Shaix says to Nim, "Hello, Nim!"
Sophist [to Kiki]: I didn't do anything.
Veronique pages, "probably :)"
Kiki [to Nim]: onna fist!
Nim [to Kiki]: Amen brutha
Nim [to Shaix]: HELLO SHAIXIE
Kiki [to Sophist]: You pretended to leave.
The housekeeper arrives to remove bag of $things from The Living Room.
Sophist [to Kiki]: I did. Then I came in through the back door.
In a fit of creative energy, Khaki_Guest reupholsters the couch. It is now covered in a fetching shade of grey......
Shaix says to Nim, "Whoa. That was loud."
Kiki [to Nim]: Let's go out and roll pumpkins.
Nim [to Sophist]: Tomorrow I plan to sleep until 2. Whats up wid youse?
Nim executes a sweeping bow for Khaki_Guest.
Nim [to Kiki]: Lets go out and roll club kids.
Kiki [to Nim]: Are there any?
Khaki_Guest says, "Who's Khaki?"
Tock_WatchDog (Magician) teleports in, in the nick of time!
Nim [to Kiki]: Aww. I hope so. I want a little club kid to lock away in my closet.
Khaki_Guest says, "Me?"
Nim says, "You"
Sophist [to Nim]: I plan to sit on the toilet till I am declared victorious.
Nim [to Kiki]: With honey on top.
Khaki_Guest says, "Oh, right, cheers....."
Nim [to Sophist]: That sounds like a fine plan
Shaix smiles at Khaki_Guest.
Kiki [to Sophist]: King of the Hill?
Sophist [to Kiki]: lol
Khaki_Guest loks sheepish
Khaki_Guest loOks
Nim says, "More like 'king of the pile'"
Nim says, "Jesus I hate Christmas."
Sophist [to Nim]: I don't think you'd get any sympathy from Jesus on that one.
Kiki [to Nim]: That's why we should go out and cause trouble.
Sophist says, "Just a wild guess."
Tock_WatchDog says, "You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave..."
Nim [to Sophist]: Oh fuck him dry and sideways
page veronique Sorry, some dumb cunt was tormenting me with her bad grammar. I hate bad grammar. None of these fuckers can even write English, let alone a foreign language.
Sophist [to Tock_WatchDog]: SING it, baby!
bonn asks, "D'you think they will serve free drinks and/or bump folks into first class as xmas gifts?"
Sophist says, "You mean fuck Him dry and sideways."
Kiki [to bonn]: No.
bonn [to Kiki]: What a bunch of scrooges.
Shaix says to bonn, "Very funny. Do you do stand up?"
Nim [to Sophist]: Yeah. I was thinking of correcting myself but hell, He's not worth it
bonn says, "Guess I'll have to bring my own Christmas cheer, in the requisite paper bag."
(from The Abyss) Sregora hugs, "Merry Christmas!"
(from The Abyss) Sregora thinks you need to @addalias sag
Sophist laughs.
Shaix says to bonn, "Erm..."
Kiki [to bonn]: Don't forget to pinch a few bottoms.
bonn [to Shaix]: Yes. I like to dribble on the seat for the next party.
Nim [to bonn]: What you got?
Veronique pages, "LOL so how old is this girl?"
bonn [to Kiki]: Thanks for the reminder.
Nim peers in bonn's bag.
Shaix giggles at bonn and says, "You're disgusting."
Nim says, "Nighttrain."
Nim says, "Very nice."
Shaix says to Nim, "Only the best!"
bonn says, "I hope it's not like Southwest Airlines, with this alarming trend toward male 'flight attendants.' Males wearing shorts, no less."
Kiki chuckles.
Nim nods solemnly.
Kiki says, "The drink of all the bumped-into-first fliers."
bonn says, "The latter should be illegal."
Sophist says, "Tight shorts, I hope. Suchthat I can see their religions."
Khaki_Guest says, "Is everyone obsessed with aeroplanes here?"
Nim [to bonn]: Right, they should be forced to wear mini-skirts like the rest of them
bonn [to Sophist]: Baggy shorts, so that their paunches aren't as pronounced.
Sophist says, "Praise the Lord, Brother Nim."
Khaki_Guest says, "Air-o-planes"
Kiki [to bonn]: Mmmm, better access.
Nim [to Khaki_Guest]: Stick around, the conversation takes wild turns at unpredictible intervals
Sophist [to bonn]: Now that's stupid. You'll never see a fat female flight attendant. Therefore I deduce that the males should be attractive, too.
@addalias SAG to me
Alias SAG added to SAGReiss(#106129).
Aliases for SAGReiss (#106129) are now {"SAGReiss", "SAGR", "SAG"}
Nim [to Sophist]: So, hows your cat?
page sregora Done.
bonn [to Sophist]: Well, duh.
Sregora is not currently logged in.
Shaix says to Nim, "An apt description."
Kiki puts on her conversational blinker for a lane change..
Khaki_Guest says, "Oooo..Worth waiting for, then?"
Nim [to Sophist]: Have you eaten it yet?
Shaix giggles at Kiki.
page veronique I'd say twenty-five.
Shaix says to Kiki, "I'll have to remember that one."
Sophist [to Nim]: If I could, do you really think I'd be here talking to you right now?
bonn asks, "I have seen some alarmingly old-looking female flight attendants in recent years. Is this some union concession?"
Nim [to Sophist]: How long does it take to slaughter and bleed a cat anyhow. I never did that.
Kiki [to Nim]: You are always asking after her pussy.
Enter Eos.
Tock_WatchDog (Magician) hugs Eos tightly in a warm embrace.
Eos says, "@wheeeeeeeeeeeeee"
Sophist enters Eos.
Nim says, "I mean, you can just chuck em in the grinder but then you get hair in your meat."
You notice the Welcome Poster is crooked.
Kiki whets Eos' nose.
Khaki_Guest says, "No-one's going to shoot me, are they?"
Shaix teleports out.
merry_little_Loner >>slurps<< Eos!
Sophist says, "Hair in your meat."
merry_little_Loner drops OINK the singing pig.
OINK the singing pig runs around, delighted to be free.
Eos licks merry_little_Loner.
merry_little_Loner tells OINK the singing pig to bob.
OINK the singing pig walks up to Eos and politely asks. 'Can Bob come out to play?'
OINK the singing pig wags his tail at merry_little_Loner.
Nim says, "Not to mention the bones."
Tock_WatchDog tells OINK the singing pig to sing.
OINK the singing pig does a quick medley of show tunes.
Sophist teleports Sildanicus in.
Eos drops Bob The Piglet.
Bob The Piglet lands on the floor with a thud.
The housekeeper arrives to remove babe from The Living Room.
@go home
Nim *HUGS* Eos!
Apartment 7
one-bedroom flat
cherlyn (asleep) is here.
page veronique It's quieter here.
Veronique pages, "good. she go to college?"
page veronique Finished. She is a part-time professional dancer. (I don't mean lap dancing.)
Veronique pages, "stripper??????????????????"
page veronique I said NO lap dancing. Modern dance. I don't know what exactly, something in a theatre.
Veronique pages, "ook. have u asked her out yet?"
page veronique Don't you read your fucking e-mail? I should toad you with avengeance. We went out to Charlie's, remember?
Veronique pages, "which email??????????????????????????????? eek did u send to aol. ??"
page veronique That's the address you gave me, so yes. I'm not going to forward the shit to you. If you want to be kept informed, update your information.
Veronique pages, "ok i havent chckecd it ina week or 2"
page veronique Well, you could have your address changed on the list, but you have never written anything anyway. Sometimes I wonder why I bother.
Veronique pages, "usually i check it a lot - been crazy lately. chill out. looking now"
Veronique covers your eyes with her hands.....
She pages, "ohh wowow email from YOU"
page veronique Don't give me any shit. You made all kinds of promises, and we've yet to see any of your prose.
Veronique pages, "oh shut the fuck up while i read your damn email."
Veronique covers your eyes with her hands.....
She pages, "OK I read your email, "
page veronique So now you know.
Veronique pages, "YESYYY"
page veronique So what do you think?
Veronique pages, "sounds god :)))"
page veronique Well, I'm hoping.
Veronique pages, "when u see her next?"
Veronique pages, "as long as she isnt freaked ou t by the mailing list :)"
page veronique There's nothing I can do about that. If she can't handle it, too bad for me.
Veronique pages, "you're right :)"
page veronique Anyway she's hot and I can't believe she's so stuck on her bf, if she let me feel her up in the bar.
Veronique pages, "well there's so many ways to look at it. :)"
page veronique Yeah, it's confusing to me. I figure, we like one another, she doesn't object to overt sexually physical contact... But she wouldn't kiss me. Maybe next time.
(from The Abyss) Sregora says, "Heya, Merry Christmas."
Veronique pages, "its very weird these days. there have been guys i have liked but not done anthing w/ bc ijust didnt want tto "deal""
page sregora I added your alias.
Sregora is not currently logged in.
page veronique Perhaps I am too male in my views. I figure pussy is good. You like sex and I do. Let's do the do.
page veronique OK, have some more cybersex. I'm still waiting for your letter about how techies do it irl.
Veronique pages, "i sent maila fewmins ago ....will hage stroy in 3 weks"
page veronique Shit, get your right hand out of your snatch or learn to type.
Veronique covers your eyes with her hands.....
She pages, "blech"

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Veroneek
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: Re: One day to go

I don't read this account for a few weeks and suddenly you're writing like a maniac. I don't have any good stories, yet--I lead an unbearably boring life. A friend who tells me he is infatuated with me is going to be in-town in 3 weeks. Then I'll have a nice long story for you. A good one. I promise.

From: Veroneek
Date: 24 December 1998
Subject: Re: I'm an honest man

Oh, nothing like having my conversations posted to a listserv. :) I think you setup conversations INTENTIONALLY so you can post them here and 1. make yourself look look like some kind of pseudo intellectual and 2. make everyone else look mundane and/or irrelevant.

From: Nichelle
Date: 25 December 1998
Subject: Re: I'm an honest man

Get used to it. He's King Midass- everything he touches turns to shit.

So, Mr. Honest Man, what's your point?

From: SAGReiss
Date: 25 December 1998
Subject: Small-minded bitches

I awoke in a bath of shame: "I can't believe I sent that whole unedited log. What the fuck did I entitle it? Why didn't I just wait until I sobered up?" I thought I was going to get crucified for sending that fourteen-page mess. The last thing I expected was to be goaded for manipulation. I was too damned drunk to cut-and-paste. I tried three times to edit that text, but I just couldn't type straight. Finally in my rage and drunken fury, I sent the shit in toto. And I'm blamed for making myself look good intellectually? I'm sorry, but you are some ungrateful bitches. I've got a pint of whisky in my belly and I made you look bad? Here I am writing hard and strong, trying to get laid and provide you with some entertainment and, yes, maybe even titillation, and I stand accused of ulterior motives? I'm going to buy one of those hats the Pope is wearing on CNN.com and issue my Christmas Day excommunications. As Sam "Bam" Beckett said: "Do not despair. One of the thieves was saved. Do not hope. One of the thieves was damned." Tres bien, Monsieur, but they both got their ass nailed to a telephone pole, didn't they?

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Veroneek
Date: 25 December 1998
Subject: Re: Small-minded bitches

So, have you gotten laid yet? Sounds like you really need it. River – are you reading this? I feel like I know you already -- when are you going to write to us and tell us how it was?

From: SAGReiss
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: Too drunk to fuck

God damn it. I love you, River. I can't send you the e-mail I'm receiving. My friends won't allow me to. I'm still trying to understand the Slavic connection to the Baltic Room. I've met the Polish boy's gf. She speaks a little French. Is it weird or rude to say that I want to lick your cunt?

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: Re: Too drunk to fuck

I think it's a little rude. If this is how it's going to be from now on, I'm not interested. What's your point, Gabriel, in sending this to a list of people your gf isn't on?

From: SAGReiss
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: What the River said

These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

C'est là, reprend le texte, ce que la voix divine fait entendre dans le
tonnerre: Soumission, don, grâce. Da da da.
Car Prajapâti à tous répond: "Vous m'avez entendu."

River cannot, of course, answer the call of the thunder because River does not exist. She is only a creation of my mind. I do not like Todd's website, though I read it faithfully every Thursday. It is badly written, poorly thought out, appallingly Americano-centric, and in need of a good editor. In short it's much like what I read in the newspaper. What I admire and respect about it is that Todd does crank the shit out, every Thursday like clockwork. This is not an easy task. E-mail is an odd form of an odd form, the epistolary genre. I chose letter writing twenty years ago as the means best suited to my expression. I discovered e-mail fifteen years later. Mixing whisky and e-mail (I've got Eliot on the brain.) is even more dangerous. Obviously I should not have sat down at the keyboard last night. It was a short, stupid letter. But it faithfully records a couple of minutes of my mind. I don't see any of you writing anything better, so fuck off. I've got a powerful lust for Yorkshire pudding. I don't really want roast beast, but I'll have to make it in order to render the fat, the precious juices I'll pour into the Dutch oven to bake it. I'm trying to think of the proper vegetable to accompany the whole mess. I eat too much asparagus at the Rainier Club. I don't want something winter-starchy. Carrots would be nice, with either spinach or brussel sprouts. I'll have to ask the apple display-man for his recommendation.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: soap operatic

Comme des sables dans les hourglass, ce sont les jours de nos vies.

Is my french improving?

Gabriel, this is getting weird. You want to lick the cunt of a creation of your mind?

From: Veroneek
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: Re: Too drunk to fuck

In a message dated 12/26/98 3:34:29 AM Eastern Standard Time, SAGReiss writes:

<< Is it weird or rude to say that I want to lick your cunt? >>

Well, River, what do YOU think?

From: SAGReiss
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: Saint Stephen's feast

Or Boxing Day depending on your religion. The beast is in the oven. The batter is in the fridge. The pre-dinner dishes are done. I am feeling very orgasmized. I bought A Frolic of his Own and a magnum of Valpolicella. I decided on carrots, mushrooms, onion and a jalapeno pepper. Strong emotions will prevail. I'm hunkered down between Thomas and John. Thomas doubted, which is usually the right thing to do. John wrote Revelations, which was definitely the right thing to do. I'm just waiting for the gods to come take me away. It's only my second day off in December, and I'm already bored. I don't like not working.

Veronique has depressed me. Here is the log:

Veronique pages, "hey there you big freak"
page veronique What's up, sis?
Veronique pages, "sad, sad, sad, you."
page veronique Sad?
 (from Secluded grove) veronique nods
page veronique What do you mean?
Veronique pages, "creating people"
page veronique Is there something wrong with that?
Veronique pages, "yes."
page veronique Why?
Veronique pages, "because i think there is something wrong with it. it's my opinion."
page veronique Well, OK, since you put it that way. It's irrelevent because I haven't invented anyone.
Veronique pages, "whatever"
page veronique River is a real live person. I don't think she's reading her e-mail though. She's gone home for the holidays. I think she'll log on around the fourth, and the shit will hit the fan.
Veronique pages, "you actually have her on the distribution that we've been writing to?"
page veronique I'm sending her blind copies of my letters.
Veronique pages, "she'll never want to see you again."
page veronique She never has to see me again.
Veronique pages, "well, there you go."
page veronique I don't see the problem.
Veronique pages, "i know."
page veronique It's pretty simple. She gave me her e-mail address, and I've written her e-mail.
Veronique pages, "fine."

The Yorkshire pudding was good, though the shape was a little irregular. I'm
just finishing up the second bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau. I think I'll take
a nap. I'm not happy and I'm worried about my weight. I fear election-year
winters. I did buy some lettuce and grapefruit. I must eat.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Veroneek
Date: 26 December 1998
Subject: Re: What the River said

In a message dated 12/26/98 3:30:40 PM Eastern Standard Time, SAGReiss writes:
<< River cannot, of course, answer the call of the thunder because River does not exist. >>

You sense that SAGReiss is looking for you in Apartment 7.
He pages, "River is a real live person. I don't think she's reading her e-mail though. She's gone home for the holidays. I think she'll log on around the fourth, and the shit will hit the fan."

From: Nichelle
Date: 27 December 1998
Subject: my soul has grown deep like the River

I'm not sure I understand it, but I suppose Gabriel is no sadder than any of us. And he got people to write, which is worth something in the long run. I don't have a theory about inventing people, and I don't think it really matters one way or the other whether or not River exists- at least not to anyone except Gabriel and River. At the same time, anything that comes to this list is fair game, and there are no rules. I don't have to be nice.

I've had more orgasms in the past two months than I had in the previous three years. Last night I had a visitor, a friend of a friend of a friend. You do the math- I have at least three friends. I met him downtown and we came back to my place. He asked me if I wanted to take my clothes off. I said it would be easier for me if he did it. I have a little body image problem from being told I'm disgusting for two and a half years. We sat there naked on my floor, and he told me, "Nichelle, you're a very lovely girl." I was moved by that, and I think he meant it. As we were lying there on the floor, resting, talking, I felt his cock pressing against my ass, hard as a rock. We spent the night talking and laughing and fucking. No imaginary boyfriends for me. No cheap lines, no false promises. Just a real live body next to me, inside of me, warm hands on my skin, a man who could appreciate my passion.

Yes, I'm hurt by all of the letters about licking a 120 lb. dancer's cunt. I'm hurt because I feel that there's real malicious intent there, that they were sent to this list to hurt me. I've never done anything to deserve that. I tried long and hard to please you Gabriel, but in the long run it was your problem, not mine, that made things unbearable. You would have let things go on like that forever, I think. That's not love. I hope you figure out what it is.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: Our new friend

I'm more or less sober. I don't know her name. What she says is so totally unbelievable that I believe it implicitly. She's a lesbian stripper. I don't know her name. I realize that I've been walking on a wild line the past few days. Nichelle, I still think the same things I've always thought about you: when you're in good form, you write some baad e-mail. You are a baad grrl, and anyone who reads our web sites knows that, or is a fucking fool. I don't want to fight with you. I love you as I always have. I have no choice but to write to this list. I can't kick you off it, can I? My new friend doesn't like pasta. Where do I meet people with weird psychological deformities like this? Today I did laundry and made tomato sauce, the strong emotions special, lots of garlic and hot peppers and herbs and spices. I have totally lost my sense of time. I wake up, read some William Gaddis, which I don't really like nor have the patience for, drink coffee and eat my home-made bread, drink whisky until I'm unbearably hungry, then cook something, drink wine and eat, take a nap, wake up, drink whisky. I am completely disoriented. I've been talking with that girl I fought with on the MOO about weird kinds of anal sex which seem to turn her on. I wanted to put her on the list too, but she fucked off before I had a chance to ask for her e-mail address. Why do you think I'm a bad man? I do my best to be good. I just say things that no one else wants to say. Or perhaps I feel things that no one else feels, but I don't think so. I've been thinking more about Sade. Todd, if you want to call the 120 Journees de Sodom a collection of short stories, then say it's like the 1001 Nights. Sade read that. I think it was a prose translation. I can live with that. The Philosophie dans le Boudoir is another story. It is the only example of really offensive violence chez Sade. For all of the heroics in Justine, Juliette or the 120 Days, there is really no intimately felt pain nor pleasure. No one weeps for Justine. In the Philosophie a daughter does horrible things to her mother. I think it's a lot more personal violence than in the other works. We could talk about this if you read the books, or even saw the beautiful film of the 120 Days that I've got. I think it's hard to come by. Pasolini made a magnificent movie. All of the various registers of human desire and suffering are there, from the lustful girl whose broken tooth displeases the masters, to the reluctant girl who screams a brutal cry of anguish (in a very quiet film) when she is sodomized in the dining room. There are a couple of Johns on this list. I thought of you, John Murder, when I heard John Galway playing duets with his wife on NPR this afternoon. He's got a very weird semi-Irish accent. He sounds like a real cunt, though I think that of almost everyone who is richer and more famous than I, which means everyone.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: Re: Our new friend

I was reading old e-mail from the World last night. Of course I don't want to be taken off the list. Gabriel, you're not a bad man. You are a very good man. I was being defensive, I felt hurt. I don't want to fight either. I miss you, and I want to get along. Shit, I'm rich, I'll even buy you dinner if you want.

From: Nichelle
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: Re: Our new friend

It takes a lot to shock me, but the fact that Gaby talked such an intelligent, articulate lesbian stripper into giving him her e-mail address... Do you prefer being called Solaris? Watch out for Gabriel. Sooner or later he will tell you that the only reason you're a lesbian is because you haven't had sex with him. Anyway, welcome. It's nice to meet you.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: 171.46 Virgins

Nichelle, will you please stop divulging my seduction strategies? Now I have to think up a new line. That was one weepy, drunken, wretched, self-pitying, teenage letter I wrote. Oh, well. I can't be a genius every day, River, n'est-ce pas? That phrase "go with the grain" reminds me of the bad tanslation of A Rebours as "Against the Grain". It should be "Against the Flow" or even "Upstream" as Huysmans also wrote "A Veau l'eau" with a water theme. It is of course a joke when the hero stops eating and creates enema menus for his nourrishment. I know it sounds weird, but it's a very beautiful book. I can't read anymore, but words still set off memories of books I fondly read years ago. I've now got two professional dancers on this list. I wasn't thinking of stripping as dance until you phrased it that way. I'm not too interested in economics, though the Communist Manifesto is a lovely work. What instrument do you play? There are a lot of musicians here. Nichelle plays the clarinette, Murder plays the flute, and Joy plays the cello. In fact, with all these dancers and musicians on the list, I should write an opera. I learned Greek and Latin when I was a boy, but I can't read them anymore. Well, I guess I could, but it would probably take me a month to struggle through one of Sappho's Odes. (Notice how I casually bring up the name of the greatest lesbian poet before Emily Dickinson. Oops. That's two. I'm so subtle.) I've made some bread, which always makes me feel productive. I'm paralysed by this inactivity. I cashed my Christmas bonus check. I thought a hundred and seventy bucks was pretty good, but the Polish boy was pissed. The one thing I like about the Rainier Club is hearing so many different languages and accents. It's so funny to hear a Chinese steward call a black steward "amigo". I also like listening to Boris and Ivo speak Bulgarian. And Svetlana has a wonderful idiolect. And Boris' Spanish sounds very good. It's pretty funny hearing the General Manager slumming with his college boy Spanish, warning the stewards about our Reidel glassware: "Muchas dinero, amigos. Muchas dinero." The Polish boy is surprised I've resigned myself to being a loser waiter, but I don't see what else I can do. His gf did two years of lettres classiques in Paris, but didn't get her DEUG (sort of an associate's degree), and that's what he wants to do now. He's a few years younger than I am, so he's probably still got a chance. I wish him luck. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I grow up.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Solaris
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: Re: Our new friend

Hell, you can buy me dinner, Nichelle. :)

Anyway, I suppose that I should tell ya'll something about myself. My rl name is Lauren, but I go by Solaris or Cyanne. Solaris is my spiritual name (I'm pagan, but not Wiccan), and Cyanne is the name I dance under. Go figure, I usually wear blues and teals... I study music, microeconomics, and ancient languages at Auburn University. I live in Alabama, but work in Georgia as a stripper. I tend to dislike the south because well...being a lesbian female, I don't tend to go with the grain here. Being a non-christian lesbian female stripper, I tend to piss people off because I defy their moral standards..oh well, too bad. :) Anyway, howdy ya'll.

From: Solaris
Date: 28 December 1998
Subject: Re: 171.46 Virgins

Well, I don't intend to grow up entirely...those who are /overly/ mature are so boring to me...one has to have some fun sometime. :) YOu asked what I play. Actually I play the piano, guitar, and clarinet, but my major study is voice. Oh, and yes stripping is considered a form of "dance" and actually there are schools that teach it under the name 'exotic dance'....I"m not PC so, so dyke stripper works for me. I have an idea for you Scott.....why don't you get some of the people you work with to teach you their languages and then get an interpretors lisence. I did that for a while on teh side when I lived in Alaska (I speak Russian) and the pay was OUTSTANDING! Now, granted, the work wasn't regular...but I wasn't in a terribly metropolitan area. One can get between $30 and $40 an hour as an interpretor...and having waited a few tables myself, speaking another language gets BIG tips. I kind of wish that I spoke Spanish now that I live in teh south with so many migrant workers... *shrug*
Oh, by teh way, you said you liked to make bread and stuff. While I don't use a bread machine their Tomato Basil Bread mix is a good one..jsut add about 2 tbsp more Basil to it and let it raise a while longer (the acidity of the tomatos don't allow it to raise in the amount of time indicated) and bake it...it's really good. I like it very lightly buttered and toasted with parmesan cheese melted over it.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 29 December 1998
Subject: Pas de trois

page cyanne What's up, sis?
Cyanne pages, "not much. :) jsut passin' the time."
page cyanne I'm finding it hard to deal with too many days off. Nichelle tried to get me out of the house, but I really didn't want to.
Cyanne pages, "Nichelle sounds interesting...."
page cyanne She is a baad woman. I'm assuming you've read out web sites.
Cyanne pages, "actually no, I haven't...but when I get back to my house I can look at it..just e-mail me the addy."
page cyanne The URLs are in my signature. One is kind of my page, the other Nichelle's, but there's a lot of overlap. I don't do any tech stuff.
Cyanne pages, "thats' kewl. Ill look at it when I get back to the house."
page cyanne Was I right to think that by "ancient languages" you meant Greek and Latin, or do you study Sanskrit and Aramaic or something?
Cyanne pages, "actually Ancient Greek (barely any latin) and Hebrew."
page cyanne Latin is a useless fucking language, just dumbed-down Greek with no decent literature.
Cyanne pages, "I AGREE!!!!!!"
page cyanne So what is your plan, read and translate Greek, dance and make money, and then do microeconomics and make money without showing your bootie?
Cyanne pages, "actually I have no real plan...get a degree or two just to have them (cause jobs pay you more just cause you have a degree...doesn't matter what they're in)...make cash dancing to put away for later...and be comfy."
page cyanne I've actually got a degree in French. I went to university in France. It hasn't helped much. I worked at Syracuse University teaching French for a year, but it didn't work out for me.
Cyanne pages, "really? that sucks..."
page cyanne I'm not even sure what difference it makes. I've got five days off and don't know what to do with myself. I don't really even need any more money than I make, except to reduce the stress of thinking about it.
Cyanne pages, "wlel, how about getting a good book?"
page cyanne I read voraciously from the age of fifteen to twenty-five or thirty. I haven't read anything since, except for the newspaper and my e-mail. I don't have the patience to read any more.
Cyanne pages, "I never have the patience to read...but hey."
page cyanne I read almost everything when I was younger.
Cyanne pages, "gotcha...so, go to a XXX shop and get some good vids/mags and have some fun."
page cyanne I go to virtualgirlz.com in the morning to relieve that kind of stress. When I said I had read everything, I meant all the good porn too.
Cyanne pages, "ah, hey..that's kewl. :)"
page cyanne I had a little specialty in porn. I'm appalled by what I see online. I'm always looking for good text-porn sites. In fact I think everyone is. We should start a business. All I ever hear on the 'net is how bad the porn is, particularly the text porn.
Cyanne pages, "eh, I"m more a visual person for that stuff..I like expressive pix."
page cyanne What kind of pics? I'm always frustrated by the photo angles. I want to see faces and genitals.
Cyanne pages, "I like to see pix where there's obvious emotion on the woman's face....."
page cyanne I brood about that. The man comes, so we know that he's had his fun, even if it's just a job. We never know about the women. Of course that's part of the mystery of biology. I hate those videos like I saw today: "Come with me, baby," while the guy jacked off on her belly.
Cyanne pages, "yeah, I do'nt like "cum shots" at all...that's boring to me..."
page cyanne But I have found the same problem in porn written by women. I love Henry Miller, who loved Anais Nin, but her shit is awful. I have slept with about fifty women. I have read all of the porn classics. I have never seen good porn from a woman's point of view, nothing even remotely connected to my experience of a woman's pleasure. In video part of them problem is the medium. Women come when one licks their cunt. Or at least that is my experience. There's nothing to see.
Cyanne pages, "huh, my problem is always porn written by men....I just don't get it...cause I know that I hate penetration cause I don't feel a damned thing...and a lot of the women I know have similar feelings...but when a guy writes it it seems that's all he pays attention to....maybe it's jsut me, but that's what I've seen."
page cyanne I think that's simple enough. I have never been with a woman who came during vaginal, oral or anal intercourse. My experience is that women come during clitoral stimulation, tongue or finger or whatever. I know women who take pleasure in penetration, but orgasm, no. It's always before or after and always clitoral stimulation.
Cyanne pages, "that's how it's always been for me too..."
page cyanne I think that's the norm.
Cyanne pages, "yeah, that's what I've seen...I do know women who cum from vagina/anal/oral..but not many."
Cyanne pages, "be back in a sec...idle to dance for about 5."
page cyanne I take pleasure in cunnilingus, great pleasure, but I've never come while licking a clit.
page cyanne I can't believe you are working. They give you 'puters to use during your breaks?
page shaix I've got a scientific question. You've said you like various forms of anal sex. Do you have an orgasm, and if so, in what procedure?
Shaix pages, "What is your definition of scientific?"
page shaix It means you're supposed to tell the truth.
Shaix pages, "Okay. Yes, I've had orgasms from anal sex in the missionary position."
page shaix That's interesting. I've never done anal sex face to face. I was just theorizing about women basically comming from cunnilingus, which is my experience. Have you looked at our web site yet?
Shaix pages, "No, I haven't. What is your experience about women coming from cunnilingus?"
Cyanne pages, "actually no, I hurt my knee and so I'm only dancing when requested..otherwise I'm working door tonight..so I get teh computer. :)"
page shaix My experience of about fifty women is that they come during cunnilingus, not during penetration. You've got to see my site. I only need about fifteen more hits to reach four thousand before the new year. Besides some guest just looked at it and said I was handsome.
Cyanne pages, "I've never cum while licking someone off either...but I've never cum by bein' licked off..."
Shaix pages, "Ah. It's really hard for me to come from cunnilingus, but it is probably (if memory serves) the most intense classification of orgasm I've ever had."
page cyanne I'm not sure I understand. You never come?
Cyanne pages, "not from cunnilingus, no. it's not enough for me."
page cyanne What does it take to get you off?
Cyanne pages, "usually some rough use with the hands."
page shaix So you come more easily from penetration?
Shaix pages, "Actually, it has far more to do with how much foreplay is involved."
page shaix I hate to sound like Mr Bill, but we need to define foreplay. I usually think of cunnilingus as foreplay.
page cyanne So hands are better than tongues?
Shaix pages, "Well, I've had really BAD lovers. Heh. A pattern I fully intend to change. Basically, general necking, petting, oral sex, etc., for about half and hour or so, and I'm far more likely to come during penetration than with just a few minutes. (Oh, really?!?)"
Cyanne pages, "if you paged something to me just a few secs ago, I didn't get it cause I got booted....I"m back now though."
page cyanne So hands are better than tongues?
Cyanne pages, "for me, yes...I like cunnilingus, but for me it's just foreplay."
page shaix So we agree that oral sex is foreplay, which may be Mr Bill's argument. I have found that the women I've loved have had orgasms almost exclusively through oral sex, which may make the whole expression "foreplay" a tool of phallocracy.
page cyanne OK. I think I understand. You like a little clit licking and then a good hand-to-clit rub-down?
Cyanne pages, "basically."
Shaix pages, "Yes, I've found that if I can come to orgasm before intercourse begins, it's just much better for both parties. Generally, I find masturbating for my partner to be very effective."
page cyanne That sounds good to me. Most women I've loved fit basically the same pattern, but some are different. I had a lover from Peru who was very weird.
Cyanne pages, "yeah, everyone's a bit different..but I find that there ARE some generalizations one can make."
page shaix But you said you also have orgasms during (anal) intercourse.
Shaix pages, "Yes, I do. Can I not have orgasms before and then again during?"
page shaix I should hope you are so lucky. I've just never seen it happen.
page cyanne Even knowing if a woman has an orgasm is not necessarily easy. I notice breathing patterns, blushing of the cheeks and/or ears. If I can stick a finger up her ass I can feel the contractions. I've been with some women who have violent vaginal contractions, but very few, only one or two, I think.
Cyanne pages, "there are 2 kinds of orgasms that a woman can have...one is full vaginal (rare) and the other is purely clitoral...different sets of muscles. usually you can feel if she is or not, at least in my experience...but that might be casue I'm female and know what to look for."
page cyanne I'm sorry. I can't stop laughing. I'm just thinking of an online porn shop with buttons: "Click here for full vaginal orgasm", "Click here for bargain clitoral orgasm".
Cyanne pages, "actually, that IS kinda funny!"
page cyanne I think we should move to the Virgin Islands and open up some kind of sex operation.
Cyanne pages, "that'd be kinda kewl."

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 29 December 1998
Subject: The Waiting

My web site counter seems stuck at 3999. I just want to get to four thousand before the new year. Do you keep stats, Todd? I've got a very primitive system, just raw hits not including repeats. I feel like some of us are sitting here waiting for a meteor to hurl across the internet and into our humble homes: "Hello, my name is River. I am not a 'bot. I am not a creation of Gaby's whisky-addled brain." What I meant when I said that, though some of you may not have understood, is that she is not checking her e-mail. You don't know her. She exists for you only through the filter of my mind. She might as well be a fictional character created by me. The only difference is that she might come to life. She might want to express herself in her own voice, instead of mine. I'm possibly suffering from some twisted Pinocchio fantasy. The history of Prometheus and Pygmalion literature does not make for a happy reading. One of the things I like about the epistolary genre is the forced interaction of vr and rl. I am not Huysmans' hero (The name escapes me.) independently wealthy sitting in my plush library brooding about my own neuroses. I don't deny that I spend a lot of time doing that, but in this kind of literature, every poem is occasional verse. Much as you think I might like to, I do not control my world, except for the unwritten law that no one is allowed to write more or better than I do, but even that rule I cannot enforce. Real life, in the form of my hapless capitalist slavery or River's vacation and possible reappearence, intrudes upon my brooding. I too am pleased to share Lauren's company. Nichelle was not flattering you. This list is two and a half years old, so we've seen some people come and go. We're used to reading bad e-mail. We'll save the flattery for when I'm trying to get into your pants. Oops.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 29 December 1998
Subject: 4000 or 5000 Virgins

I've got four thousand hits in two and a half years, and you get five thousand a week? Now I'm really going to have to criticize your site (mouthorgan.com for my new girlfriends). Yes, I've added another one. Cherlyn is the young lady who's been sharing my household on the MOO. I don't know much about her, or rather I probably know as much about her as I do about some of you, what I've seen on the web mostly. I'm sure she can introduce herself, should she so desire. That was just a throw-away line, Todd. I've heard something about a recent Nazi-feminist theory that Emily Dickinson was a lezbo. I'm inclined to believe it. Surely she thought about her cunt, and even touched it, just like anyone else would. We all know that you would, if you had one. I don't know why you won't share the good text-porn sites with the rest of us. I'm not interested in porn for people who don't like porn, or porn which calls itself erotica, or porn which pretends to be anything other than what it is. Sam "Bam" Beckett really wanted to publish a one-hundred-page book with no words in it. Nichelle once explained to me the meaning of what John Cage did. Beckett was not a fraud. He wrote "Murphy", which is a brilliant, fairly conventional novel. For your thoughts about Voltaire, I would suggest comparing his bitterness with that of Swift. Forget everything you know about Swift. Read "Gulliver's Travels". It is something so brutal, so vicious, so mean-spirited that even I find it unconscionable. Pynchon is a cheap punk.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Columbine
Date: 29 December 1998
Subject: Stir-fried random

"Stir-fried random" is a hacker term around here. It refers to what you get when you throw anything that's in the refrigerator and looks vaguely edible into a wok. I haven't eaten such a gallimaufry in years, thank heavens.

On the other hand, returning after a week of Southern food and road-food, I am badly in need of something not deep-fried. I adore Southern food, but something's wrong with people who consider macaroni-and-cheese a vegetable. I'd say non-ethnic Northern food is boring, but frankly, I'm no longer sure it exists. We don't eat in any restaurants I wouldn't consider ethnic. I don't know of any, except Durgin-Park, which serves enormous slabs of unseasoned meat and fish.

I don't keep statistics myself. The people who host the web sites do it for me. They send me reports every week. There's so much information in them that I feel sometimes like I'm committing an invasion of privacy by reading them. But I read them anyway. Actually I usually just glance at the "total traffic" number at the top and delete them.

I never figured Emily Dickinson for a lesbian. I tend to trust the opinions of the poetry books, most of which theorize that the second time her life "closed before its close" it was Charles Wadsworth she had in mind. On the other hand, I will be the first to admit that - with the possible exception of that poem - Emily strikes me as one of the least Dionysian figures I can imagine. Her ecstasies are of a different kind. I not only can't imagine her having sex, I can't imagine her thinking about having sex.

But it's stupid to judge someone from the words they left behind. Pity it's the only tool we've got. Fortunately no one will read mine - I'm using the web as my medium, which is like writing on a beach. The tide'll get it. I think I'd rather not be remembered as anything at all than be misremembered. "Song, let them take it/For there's more enterprise/In walking naked."

I wouldn't think Eliot ever thought about sex either if he hadn't made J. Alfred such a dirty old man.

No one seems to find the porn they're looking for? I do. All the time. Maybe most people don't know how to look. Web surfing is indeed unsympathetic and inefficient. Thank god. If it worked better, entropy would have a field day.

A correspondent wants to know why amazon.com lists erotica under the "Horror" heading. I have no explanation for her that wouldn't sound deeply unpleasant.
Beckett substituted cryptic for substance. So did John Cage. So does David Lynch. Only one of these three men has/had a sense of humor.

I can't comment on the De Sade remarks right now, Gabriel. Suffice to say that your thoughts have caused me to reexamine all my ideas about the man, and I'll need to go back and re-read 120 Days before I can say anything else. That might take a while. I don't have the same patience with prose that you do - I can't even get through Henry Fielding, and Debby has only gotten me to attempt Thomas Pynchon with extreme prodding. Actually I have discovered the secret of Pynchon: all that rarefied language is used to conceal the fact that at the bottom of his web lies a series of really crude jokes. Pynchon is toilet humor for academics.

It rained all the way home today. The third leg of the journey back, and the one we make most often. We know the road between here and DC well. It takes eight hours. Today it took twelve. Debby fostered an unreasonable hope that the weather would somehow magically change as we reached the Massachusetts border. She got her wish. It began to snow.

We get comments from the Canadian and Australian readers all the time that mouth organ is appallingly Americentric. But we live in America. We have no experience of things outside America. We tried asking our Canadian and European readers - and I know we have them, I can see the stats - about conditions there: smut censorship, sexual licentiousness, the way men and women approach each other, any such topic you like - and we got no useful responses. If we were to report on sex outside our borders with no information to work from, you'd accuse us of fabricating.

Debby is a good editor. You should see the columns before she gets to them. You may lay all blame at my feet. I write like I think. Without the editing, mouth organ would read like my journal website. 5000 people a week read mouth organ, and only 300 people a week read my personal site. I know my limits.

From: Cherlyn
Date: 29 December 1998
Subject: Re: 4000 or 5000 Virgins

Go to bed, you're drunk.

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From: Solaris
Date: 30 December 1998
Subject: Re: 4000 or 5000 Virgins

Actualy what I've read about Emily Dickenson herself does state that she was more than likely a lesbian. Her diary indicates that she lost a loved one (a woman) and resigned herself to celibacy afterwards. She also never married.....duh. I think that is probably why people state that she was a lesbian. Frankly, I could care less whether she was or not. I enjoyed her poetry, and frankly I think she was probably pretty bright to avoid marriage. I've been down that road and it sucked! (my divorce will be final on the 30th)

From: Columbine
Date: 30 December 1998
Subject: Re: 4000 or 5000 Virgins

Oh, Swift was a mean bastard. I've known that for years. I did theses on him and Joyce (not at the same time). Joyce was embittered - you would be too, if your eyesight was so poor that you had to write in letters two inches high to be able to read them and your own publisher burned your manuscripts. Swift didn't have a lot to be embittered about - life didn't s**t on him the way it did Joyce - or De Sade, for that matter. Swift just liked being nasty.

I'd love to hear real criticisms of mouth organ from you, Gabriel, my snide comments aside. People read it because there isn't anyone else out there doing the weird thing it is that we do - not porn, not advice, god alone knows what it is. I keep telling people that it's just us ranting in the void. Still, I'd like to improve the quality of the ranting. Our friend REM posted a message which pointed out the same thing you did - the bondage analogy was just plain wrong. Between the two of you I guess I'll have to correct it. I say things I regret later when I get too involved in what I'm writing.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 30 December 1998
Subject: Lachrymosa

James Joyce was a whining, little Irish drunk. He fucked up his eyes either screwing some cheap whore or reading too much. I had eagle eyes until I was sixteen, and the stress of devouring six-hundred-page novels in one sitting took its toll. Ever since I stopped reading my eyesight hasn't changed. Of the authors who broke with chronological narrative structure just as Proust was showing the limits of realism, I prefer Faulkner, Celine and Doeblin. Celine got fucked worse than Joyce, whose blindness kept him at a safe distance from the front. He is still treated as a traitor in France. As if the whole damned nation didn't just bend over and spread them. Andre's father made a bad decision in 1940. When Alsace was liberated he wound up at Studhof, the only concentration camp in the West. The French took it over and locked up civil servants who had worked for the occupation government. With five thousand hits a week, you are obviously doing a lot more things right than wrong. I have a hard time getting half a dozen people to wake up and answer their e-mail. Sometimes the schoolboy jargon bothers me. I have no idea what you mean by "vanilla" sex. Is that just white heterosexuals having intercourse? Please remember that when I went to American universities, on and off between 1979 and 1984, queer studies was an extracurricular activity. Just so long as you never ask for my credit card number to read your column. None of us want to see me as mad as that would make me. I do think the American bias leads you astray on the subject of anal sex. Sixteen-year-olds of both sexes have been figuring out how to do this for eons. In many parts of the world sodomy is still used as a method of contraception and for girls to keep their virginity. Lube and user's manuals are just the capitalist tools of a nation of uptight assholes. I once had a rectal exam. Granted French and American doctors draw the line differently between pain and discomfort, but if a bearded Alsatian could stick a cold metal pipe up my butt, then anal sex can't be as hard as you seem to imply. I've never been to rural Alabama, but I've lived in several countries. My experience is that no one really cares what anyone else does, so long as too much noise or blood aren't involved. No one takes the nonsense in Washington seriously. These men are all such power-hungry monsters of greed they would sell their own daughters to win an election. And they all have professional fellators and fellatresses on the federal payroll, if only to entertain distinguished guests and campaign contributors.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Columbine
Date: 30 December 1998
Subject: Re: Lachrymosa

Don't worry, we're never going to ask for your credit card number. That pisses us off too, although not as much as it upsets our friend Jane Duvall. She was fairly quiet about censorship and things like that until CDA2 tied credit card use to proof of adulthood. Then she started shouting. And she gets readers that make our five thousand a week look puny. You can only push anyone so far.

"Vanilla" sex at its most severe means heterosexual vaginal penetration in a face-to-face position, no toys, no variations, no tongue, no fingers, no nothing. But you're right, the term's vague. Sometimes we deliberately use it BECAUSE it's vague.

Vanilla - hmm. Maybe it means that you don't perceive yourself as being very adventurous. We tie each other up on occasion and consider ourselves fairly vanilla, whereas to some people just having the woman on top is unbearably deviant - although I don't imagine many of those are reading our site. Also, what a gay male considers "vanilla," for example, may be what a straight person wouldn't countenance. We get into arguments on the message boards a fair amount over the idea that one person's normal practice is another person's jailable offense.

I think you're probably right about the anal sex - that America is a lot more scared of this subject than Europe is. That's one of the reasons we originally asked for facts from abroad. Anal sex and masturbation are the two big hypocrisies that bother us about American sex. Basically our mailbag is showing us that Americans, and American women in particular, WANT to try all kinds of things, but think it's wrong or that it's sinful or can't bring themselves to ask their partner or all of the above. Anal sex is the number-one unfulfilled fantasy of straight white women between the ages of 25 and 45 in this country. They either fantasize about being penetrated, or they want to strap one on and do their boyfriend, or both. Nine-tenths of these women never, never admit anything of the sort to their sexual partners. This is the sort of thing that makes the two of us grit our teeth, especially since we agree with you that no one else really cares as long as you keep it in your own bedroom. You can only get what you're willing to ask for.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 30 December 1998
Subject: Windmills and peppermills

That was a pretty slick letter, Todd, and I almost let you get away with it. I stuffed a chicken's ass with home-made bread and mushrooms and onion and garlic and pepper and rosemary, cooked her in the oven with carrots and hot peppers, ate her breast and drank Chianti with my cheerful devil-may-care mood, and took a nap. She is one of the nine tenths of white meat that doesn't have to ask to take it up the butt. On the other hand she didn't object, or I didn't notice if she did. No, I can't let you get away with this. I could, but it would be wrong. First of all, there's no reason why SWBs (That's my new term for skinny white boys.) should dominate this debate. I'm sure that Cherlyn, if she is not too freaked out by this new forum, which must seem a little weird popping up unsuspectedly one her 'puter screen, knows far more about these matters than either of us ever will. Of course, she also agrees with me one hundred percent because I am the Man, or so she is kind enough to let me think. I admire your argument: ostensibly agree with the evil motherfucker before contradicting everything he says. No human being in the history of the universe has ever existed to whom: "just having the woman on top is unbearably deviant." You are tilting at windmills or peppermills or dildoes or some other phallic symbol, which is what people with a political agenda always do, which is why I hate all politicians and would be happy to see them all impeached or otherwise humiliated for their affaires and other crimes against humanity. Even if such a person could hypothetically exist, we would never know it because such a person would be discrete enough not to go on television to talk about sex. Anyone who does go on television to talk about sex is selling something, a product or an idea. I don't grit my teeth about what other people do or don't do in their bedroom. I don't care one way or another. Any woman so dumb as not to be able to get her bf's cock in her ass when it's logged just one inch of perineum away is lucky that the internet is so easy to use that she can write e-mail to you to complain about it. Every American and his gf or bf or goat or cow can figure out how to have anal sex. It is the sexperts of every stripe who envenom things that were simple and easy for my grandmother and yours.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Solaris
Date: 31 December 1998
Subject: Re: Lachrymosa

Well actually, the vast majority of the people in Alabama that I've come across (and that is several thousand) are so deeply involved in teh Clinton scandal that they hold all kinds of protests, etc CONSTANTLY. DAmn....why teh hell not just watch Oprah and get over it? But no, the best selling magazine in AL was probably taht issue of Star where they said there was somethi'n between Monica and Hilary... I get disgusted with the ppl in AL thinking that everyone else's business is their own. People often come to my door to "convert" me and make me a "good Christian girl"...which isn't going to happen. I've also had people show up on my property with guns threatening to kill me because I'm a lesbian. It's all bullshit and the people in Alabama have WAY too much time on their hands. People wonder why the state is in such a poor economic condition, when THIS isgoing on? Well..I wonder...if people would actually use their time wisely they might, /MIGHT/, actually get something accomplished...but no. Sorry for the ranting, it jsut pisses me off.

From: Cherlyn
Date: 31 December 1998
Subject: Re: Lachrymosa

IMX, a good variety of 'fringe' sexual subcultures use the term 'vanilla' to differentiate between their particular brand of kink and 'normal' sex, though not necessarily missionary-position-lights-out-under-the-covers-sex; in other words, a definition for it (in some circles) is moot, since it is used more often to delineate what something is not, rather than what it is. Recalling my period of lurking in a bdsm newsgroup, one cross-posted so called vanilla practictioner raised a moderate amount of stink over the lexicon, citing her perception that the bdsm group regulars imply vanilla to equate boring-ness, and so forth. She was rebuffed, iirc, with the notion that "vanilla is a great flavor, too!" ignoring, presumptuous bastards that they are, the argument that vanilla is not a term exclusive to bdsm. Everybody on usenet is fruity, though.

I'm cherlyn, btw.

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From: Nichelle
Date: 31 December 1998
Subject: Re: bdsm

Ah, now I see how get kept this woman in his room. He had her tied down to something.

(Hi, Cherlyn, nice to meet you.)

November 1998

January 1999

vr: 1998